


..- -..

by snivellus (queervulcan)



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, and so here we are, i was not satisfied with the ending, i will try to make it as non graphic as possible, only ganon stays dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22467613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queervulcan/pseuds/snivellus
Summary: S O S, the champions cried.S A D, the Blights roared.
Relationships: Link/Mipha (Legend of Zelda), Link/Prince Sidon, Mipha/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 83





	1. little sailor

**Author's Note:**

> the group chat pointed out there was morse code in the divine beasts themes and i haven’t stopped crying since

Mipha had many regrets. As she frantically punched at Ruta to get her running, they cycled through her memory. 

What she had expected when she coded her biological energy into the Beast was a trumpet of greeting. What she received was a blaring, distressful whine that had her hunching over the main console in shock and pain. 

Below the alarm, she could hear the gears of Ruta frantically shifting. She knew those sounds like the tinkle of her baby brothers laughter, like the image of Link’s freckles when he spent too much time in the sun. Someone was trying to get into Ruta. 

She whirled around, console obsolete, and bared her teeth. She refused to give up control without a fight, and bar Ganon himself she was confident in her abilities. Trident raised, her body got into the position Link taught her. 

The whirring of the machinery stopped, and Mipha lowered her trident as the doors stayed firmly shut. Just as she turned her back towards the gate, she caught red gunk seeping out of the walls and floor. 

With nowhere to stand, she stayed flat footed, one hand poised over the console. 

The gunk traveled upwards through the air, thick and cloying and Mipha felt like it was stuck in her gills, causing her to gag on nothing. 

It formed- a  _ thing _ . It was an abomination, and she stepped back some paces as it materialized on the walls. Trident at the ready, she searched for weaknesses in its structure. 

And then the beast turned its head to her, and her heart felt like it stopped. 

Staring at her, was a beast she was sure was made by Ganon. And yet, she couldn’t help the unsettling feeling that wrapped around her shoulders that tried to convince her that this beast was made to mimic her appearance. 

She slapped a hand on to the console, injecting more of her life force into the beast as she called for help. With this, she could be at the farthest reach of Ruta and still call for help. 

She knew it was dangerous, putting too much of herself into Ruta too quickly. She had learned the painful way, the first and last time when she shared too much headspace with Ruta and collapsed. She learned to do it gradually, like a lazy stream. 

They circled each other for some time, and each time Mipha managed to land a blow, the abomination landed three more. 

She was quickly tiring, but she had to fight. She had so much to lose, an entire future with Link she refused to give up. With renewed determination, she screamed at it in defiance and recoiled when it threw its spear too close to her neck. 

It was then that Mipha realized: she would not come  back from this. If this monster was able to prey on her weaknesses so easily, the one who had trained with Link since they were children, then she feared for her comrades, her friends. 

Even as the monster struck blow after blow, and her cries for help rose in frequency, she refused to lower her guard, refused to pull her mouth back from a snarl. 

She fought with all she had, in the same way she loved. She gave everything she had, until she stumbled to one knee in the water, head bowed in defeat. 

Her cries for help choked her gills, gunk spilling out from the monster clinging to her scales, even as she screamed for her father, for Sidon, for Link and her found family. 

Mipha felt the air grow heavy, and lifted her head. 

When she died, she refused to have her head lowered to Ganon.


	2. a mothers love

Urbosa barely made it back to Naboris, forgoing a sand seal and jumping on to the platform before it was fully lowered. 

Naboris cried for help in the back of her head, and she put extra energy into running to the console. She slammed into it, but it didn’t register. 

Even as her hands worked frantically to diagnose the issue and get Naboris working, her logical mind reminded itself that she knew Naboris as well as she knew her people’s laughter, as well as her little girl waiting back home, swaddled in caverns underground. 

No matter how much she swatted at the main console, Naboris wouldn’t calm. She continued to jerk around the sand, as if fighting off an intruder on land. The electricity embedded into the beast crackled in her ears, making her hair stand on end, but it was never released. 

The whirring stopped for just a moment, just enough for her to stop her hovering over the console, head resting against the cool metal as she panted from the exertion. 

Her eyes at half mast, she caught the sight of red oozing from underneath the platform. It was sluggish, like the desert heat rolling waves in the distance at high sun. As the gunk touched her bare skin, it left behind pinpricks of jolting electricity. 

And so, it materialized below her, hunched over. Urbosa readied her scimitar and shield, body tensed to jump down. 

It raised its head, red eyes boring into hers. Her head reared back in shock, jewelry and clanking armor echoing in the soundless cavern. Those _eyes_. The eyes of malice, of the whispered tales of the old dictator Gerudo king, who had turned them from a once proud people to a scattered pack of thieves and nomads, still hunted to this day by the kingdom of Hyrule. 

Urbosa stared down at the beast, neither moving, and her heart raced as she realized this was Ganon. Or, a form of him, at the very least. 

Under her skin, she could feel the desperation building up in her, releasing a torrent of lightning like she never had before. It was blinding, and that moment was all the monster needed before it pounced on her and knocked her off the platform. 

She watched it teleport, too fast for her eyes to track and her lightning being rendered inefficient. The beast threw her against the floor again, even as she raised her scimitar on instinct, cutting into what passed as its neck. 

More of the gunk rained down on her face and chest, making her jolt in pain. Urbosa tried to call down her lightning while the beast was stationary, and for the first time, it failed. The lightning was absorbed by the beast, and it redirected it back towards her. 

For the first time in her life, she felt the full brunt of her powers coursing through her. 

She screamed until her voice was hoarse, body arched painfully. 

The beast flung her back onto the platform, and she scrambled away to the console, intent to place a call for help. 

Her limbs twitched underneath her, rendering her muscles useless, but she grit her teeth and thought of her tribe, her family down below her. They needed her, as she needed them. 

Her hand slammed onto the console, tired, but even as the shrill alarm sounded throughout Naboris and beyond she forced herself upwards. 

If she was going to die, she was going to die fighting, like the chieftess’ before her, like Nabooru did for her people's freedom. 

She screamed, losing what was left of her tattered voice, and her hair escaped its ties as she summoned the will and power of the women who came before her. 

It was for naught, as each hit she managed to make caused her to fall back. Electricity flowed through her veins, and the voices of the women who came before her chanted out for her. 

Faintly, in the far distance, miles away from her, she could hear her people. They were no strangers to death, looked at death in the face every day they greeted the sun once more and spat in its face. 

If Urbosa concentrated very, _very_ hard, she could hear the wailing songs, the timber of drums and strings. The desert was an empty place, and sound echoed. 

Urbosa knew she was dying, and she could accept that, even as Nabooru placed a hand on her shoulder, supporting her in her final moments. 

But she would be _damned_ if she didn’t make this beast put up a fight worthy of her name. 


	3. little brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i knew daruk and ravioli would be hard to write, because their characterization doesn’t come easy to me, but man was that hard!!

Daruk knew what they said of his people. That they were simple minded, they were stupid, that they were no better then the pets that Hylians kept. 

Just because they chose a simple life did not mean they  _ were _ . 

And though his champions never said a word against him, he sometimes had his suspicions. But that was in the beginning, and only then it had truly just been Revali that Daruk would side eye. That is, until Daruk was forcibly reminded that Revali was still a child in comparison to Daruk, and had far too much on his skinny bones. 

The point was that Daruk could count on his brothers and sisters to protect his blind spots, just like Link did the first time they met. 

Gorons weren’t capable of sweating like a Hylian, but up here near the volcano, with Rudania crying in his head and around him, he felt he was beginning to understand the reasoning behind their biology. 

Even as everything went to pieces around him, he made sure to treat Rudania gently. He called back on meditative teachings he hasn’t had to think of since he was a young man- since he decided he  _ wanted  _ to be a man- taught to all of the Gorons from birth. His hands were steady, like a healer, but inside he was panicking. 

He made sure to swipe the screen gently, to not push too hard on the buttons and cause another dent from when he was first becoming acquainted with the Beast. 

Because he was so focused on breathing steadily and diagnosing the issue, he missed the gunk that slipped around his ankles, blending into the same color as the sky above him and the lava below him. He missed the lights flickering in and out in the chamber below him. 

He did, however, feel the tension gathering at his back. Just in time, he raised his shield. Instead of rebounding, it sent him flying off the platform, landing with a boom in the dark cavern below. 

His shield had never failed before, but it  _ did _ save him from getting his head lobbed off. 

His eyesight was poor, and the sudden, shocking change didn’t help a bit. He scrambled like a beetle on its back, desperate to reach a console to fidget with the lights before the beast found him. 

The beast crawled through one of Rudania’s holes, staring intently at Daruk as he rolled faster to a console. It made an odd chirping sound, almost like it was laughing at him. 

For some unfathomable reason, he thought of what Link and the Princess would do. As the chief, he had a great deal of responsibility on his shoulders. He loved it, as much as he could being in charge for a group of people’s well-being, but in this moment he felt like he was facing down a horde of puppies. 

He wanted to hide, and that brought a wave of shame that had him stopping mid roll, the momentum carrying him a few paces until physics crashed him into the console. 

He didn’t bother standing up, throwing a hand down on to the console, calling for help even as a shiver of shame slithered down his back, wincing as his fists made the metal groan. 

Daruk wasn’t sure where his weapon lay, but that was alright. He had his strength, size, and shield to aid him. 

The monster finished chirping at him, and chose to circle him in the dark. He could make out the beast’s sword of flames, and not much else. He turned to keep an eye on the beast at all times, grateful that his size meant that it was harder for Rudania to shake him off his feet. 

Even so, Daruk wasn’t prepared for the beast to lunge. It knocked him back once again, shield hastily risen, before the beast jumped off him and skittered to the ceiling, head cocked down at him. 

He knew the beasts game. He wanted Daruk to tire himself out trying to overwhelm the monster, to become frustrated to the point of sloppiness. Or worse, to become so confident that he left openings to be chipped away at. 

Daruk lay low, panting as he listed to one side, feeding more of his energy into Rudania without consciously meaning to. 

He knew he had the hardest time of all the Champions to bond to their Divine Beast, but even with all the hastily thrown together training he should know better than to offer too much of himself. 

The beast kept lunging, and skittering back, and Daruk would throw in a well timed punch when he could. It left the beast dazed, and Daruk took those moments to run, blindly searching for where his weapon landed. 

He just had to survive to see the light of Death Mountain again, to see Yunobo’s grubby hands reaching for Daruk’s hair. Perhaps he would check on his people, and make his way back to Hyrule proper to offer his aid. 

By now, he knew no one was coming. He could accept that. He could accept if he died, even. After all, for a Goron, his pebbles will become the foundation for another Goron to spring out of the mountain sides, ready to cause trouble for the elders and throw themselves into too hot waters. 

What he couldn’t accept was this beast escaping the confines of Rudania. He fought until his strength waned, until the red moon was high and fat in the cloudy sky. 

It was quiet in the volcano. 

As Daruk lay pinned to the floor, he regretted not being strong enough as a Goron, and as a Champion. He hoped his brothers would forgive him, he hoped his comrades made it out of the other side alive. 

The faint quiet where they shared an ancient bond, barely understood even by the modern Sheikah, scared him otherwise. 

It was so quiet on the volcano, even as he swore he could hear drums from somewhere. 

Daruk promised himself he would sleep with the shine of lava from now on, and never again with this soul consuming darkness. 

Just once more, he wanted to see his adopted son. He wanted to see Link and have a feast, watch him eat things he  _ knew  _ wasn’t good for either of them, and laughing together as they became ill. 

He wanted to see the sun once more. 


	4. clipped wing

Revali was a proud bird. Too proud, they said. He and the current chief, however, knew how hard he worked to get where he was now. 

He may have made a few blunders as a hatchling, but they couldn’t deny that he spent long hours training, whether it be aerial or on the ground. 

He came from a long line of proud people, his mother was a healer with a spine of steel, beak strong and upright. His father was a warrior, with cold, hard eyes. Both his parents were strict and demanding, but their wings when lifting him up and holding him had always been gentle, and their beaks made sure to be careful when it was grooming day and Revali couldn’t yet reach his back. 

His father had taught him how to braid with beads, learned from his father, and so on. It was a symbol of their family name, fairly earned and kept with hard work. 

As he flew up into the air to see what had caused the rumbling, had seen the beast take over the castle, his first thoughts were of his past, and how they molded him in the future. 

It didn’t take long to reach Vah Medoh, what with his aerial grace and not having to worry about monsters and a horse tiring on the road. 

Therefore, he had the most time of all the Champions to realize something was _horribly_ wrong. 

Medoh was jerking in the air, as if fighting off an unknown assailant. The beam designed for Ganon’s destruction was rapidly charging, and Revali made sure to be far away from it when it did discharge, blue and red lights blinding him as they travelled towards Hebra Peak. 

Even with the distance, he still felt the heat of the discharge puff his feathers, so intense he was sure they would be singed. 

But that was another matter for after the battle. For now, he had to dive bomb his way past Medoh’s flickering shield. He didn’t remember this when they were practicing, and wondered if this was always there, waiting to be used and to trap him, or if it was Ganon’s doing. 

Revali waited until the flickering allowed an opening, and then flew into the open aired chamber. Medoh was screeching, and the moment he decided to land by the main console he was thrown off his feet. 

The fall dazed him, and Medoh’s frantic rocking didn’t help matters. The world spun around him, and each time he attempted to get back up the wind knocked him back down. Eventually, after so many bruises, he had enough of being thrown about like a ragdoll, and decided to use his gail, even if it sent him tail over head. 

Which it did, but it was a small price to pay for getting off the platform and to shake the nausea off. His head felt like a marble in a typhoon, but because of this he was able to see the same red gunk that he had seen circling the castle, now creeping out of Medoh’s crevices.

He circled around, trying to find a weakness, or at least for Medoh to stop rocking. He found neither, and when he turned his back to the main console, he felt the back of his neck prickle. 

On instinct, Revali dived, turning halfway so he was belly up. This time, his feathers were  _ definitely  _ singed as lasers shot at him. He dodged them nimbly, as they were nothing compared to when he would hire his nest mates to shoot arrows at him that he would then dodge. 

The beast of Ganon was relentless, nicking him time and time again, never drawing full blood but the blows were painful nonetheless, causing Revali to stutter and retry, get back up from the faintly vibrating Medoh, draw his bow and release battle cries. 

Inexplicably, he thought of his past again. He considered the people below him,  _ his _ people. Seething with humiliation and hatred, he knew from the tips of his head feathers down to his talons what he had to do. His people were his life, were the future of Hyrule. For them, he would set aside his pride. 

Revali would call for Link, but it would not be his choice. 

Deep down, he knew as a pragmatic warrior that he was no match for one of Ganon’s monstrosities. Not when the monster kept shooting at him, dislodging his footing with the tornadoes that chased him. 

He frantically tapped against the console, just as he felt a searing pain in his shoulder, followed by the smell of burnt feathers and muscle. Revali gagged at the smell, never having experienced it before. He had no choice, but to keep moving. He would have to place his trust in Medoh’s distress call, and in Link’s abilities. 

And that  _ burned _ even more than his shoulder. 

Revali swore when he came out of this alive that he would practice fighting through pain, even if it mottled his feathers. He was vain, yes, but some things were bigger than his pride. 

When he glanced at his back during a moment of freedom, the rest of his baby feathers puffed up in fear. The slime of Ganon was clinging to him, cauterizing his wound but leaving it open to be infected with the malice. He felt his stomach flip, bile rising to the surface. 

Just as he started to heave in panic, feeling in over his head, he heard it. Down far, far below, the warbling and chirps of hedglings, the singing of his people. It was a song of everlasting hope, passed on through the ages. It was the song when babies were hatched, when someone was married and reached adulthood, when a chief or chieftess was crowned. It was the song they sang when one of their own died, as they returned the ashes of their bodies to where the Rito were born- high in the air, tucked between the tallest trees. 

Revali knew, with startling clarity, that he was going to die. He was a solider before he was the chief’s heir, and for his people? He would gladly lay his body to rest. 

But he was  _ damned _ if he was going to let this beast hurt more of his own. 


	5. little bird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i forgot this was sitting in my drafts finished for like two weeks now sorryyyy

Her feet bore no blisters, and were unaccustomed to running in sandals. When she ran, she wore leather running boots, perfectly molded to her feet to give her the best support. When she ran, it was within the safety of her castle walls, with her knight running behind her, trusting him to protect her blind spots. 

She did not run in the rain, or the mud, as even for a disappointment of a princess, she held standards over herself. 

But today, Zelda was running for her dear life, one hand clutched in Link’s, clammy and shaking. His grip was like a vice, but not so tight that when her sandal snapped, he managed to sway upright. 

Her knight, Link, always upright and her pillar. 

Zelda was bleeding, little nicks everywhere that stung against the blast of the icy rain, and her feet were tired. She craved the safety of her bed, to know that Link was just across the room in his own cot. She had tried offering him his own bedroom, but he had shot her down in that quiet way of his. 

For years, she would bend to her knees in supplication to goddesses she was not sure she believed in anymore. But before she was a dutiful daughter, before she was a princess, she was a servant to the goddesses above. 

It never burned quite as much as this time. Link held her in his steady arms, the warmth he always gave off had long since been sapped away by the fear he desperately tried to hide. 

Her knees felt cold, and her body felt filthy, and the rain beat harshly at the nape of her neck where her hair parted over her slender shoulders, at her heels where her dress rode up. 

Safe, in her knights arms, temporarily safe from Ganon and the once protectors of her kingdom, she screamed and howled and cried, letting it mingle with her blood and magicked rain. 

Eventually, her throat grew hoarse, and she knew they had to start moving again. It had only been a few minutes since she let herself fall apart- a habit formed after 17 years of not being allowed to grief properly, because she was a goddess reincarnated, because she was a princess, because, because, because. 

Her world focused back on Link’s hand in hers, and she  _ wished _ it was Mipha’s instead. She loved her knight with all her being, loved the safety of his arms around her, and his rare laughter would cause her heart to race and her cheeks to flush. But  _ Mipha _ . When she was with her princess, she felt like an ordinary girl. She wanted to spend hours upon hours with her, to wake up and go to sleep to Mipha’s arms and face near. She wanted to know the taste of Mipha on her tongue. 

Even as she flushed at that thought- wondering in a part of her mind just  _ how _ her hormones could make her so randy at a time like this- her heart drooped upon remembering the look that Mipha would give to Link. 

Part of her heart yearned and hoped, but now even that wouldn’t matter. 

Ganon had robbed them of their chances, of her chances, but she could do this final thing for her people. 

As Link collapsed behind her in a heap of broken bones, his skin burnt black from a stray Guardian, heartbeat weak and breath unsteady, every fiber in her being knew, with a startling clarity, what she had to do. 

All those springs she had run off to- they would never have worked for her. Her courage was trampled, and her wisdom weak, and her power dampened. 

But yet, when she looked at Link, limping and bleeding, urging her to run, all that didn’t matter. Goddesses be damned, she would protect her people, her loves, no matter what. 

And when she had pushed him away, offering herself up for supplication to the wrong guardian, her goddesses responded and her veins sang with the triforce that ran through her blood. 

It left her woozy, but her work was far from over. 

She barked at Impa and Purah to save Link, selfishly and not quite, for even with her selfish feelings she recognized the power held within his small body. 

She watched them run away, hopping to and fro, watched the guardians power down one by one as her force extended out and overpowered the ugliness they now carried. 

There were few beings she trusted, and they were all fighting Ganon in one way or another. 

Zelda turned her back on the three she trusted with not just her own life, but that of Link’s, and picked up the scarred sword. There was a new glint in her eyes, a purpose. 

She gave a shrill whistle, waiting for Dove to appear before her in a haze of blue lights. She barely gave a moment for either to adjust to the swords heavy burden before she was urging Dove onwards. 

The forest of the lost spirits was aptly named. Zelda left Dove at the entrance, not wanting her to get spooked by the fog and chiming laughter. As if sensing her urgency, the forest parted its fog like Moses parting the sea. 

Just ahead, just one more step she told herself. Zelda ached to be selfish, to stay here within the forest for the rest of her natural life, protected by the forest spirits. 

She could never live with herself if she went through with it. Eventually, the guilt would drive her mad, or the lack of contact with other tangible races, whichever came first. 

She bowed upon her knees to the Great Deku tree, and it didn’t hurt. The sword was placed gently in its pedestal, the edges of the triforce shaped stone chipping away with age. Who knew how many times she had come here in past lives, how many times the Deku tree had seen both her and Link. It was possible, even, that he had seen Ganondorf when he was still human. 

With a stray brushing of her own thoughts, Zelda bowed once more, having spent far too long here. The Deku tree took no offense. He could feel the earth beneath his roots rotting, the vibrations of the races as they fell one by one. 

He sent her off with well wishes, and a promise to protect that which may be needed once more. 

Zelda left her Dove at the stables where she grew up learning to ride, far away enough from the castle proper but still within Central Hyrule. She let Dove eat an apple from her palm once more, brushed her hair with her mother’s old riding comb, and made sure to give Dove a kiss on her snout. 

Zelda knew she would never see Dove again, and it seemed Dove was better trained than she liked to show, for instead of following Zelda, she stayed behind, watching her run away with her broken shoes slapping at her feet. 

Just before she made it into the cover of the forest, she stopped to look behind her just  _ once  _ more. Dove stood still, pearly white against the grey of the world, watching her walk away. It was that bit of genuine innocence that gave her the courage to straighten her spine, and face her future with the dignity of her station. If not for herself, then for the animals and people who deserved a second chance.

Then, Dove turned her back, riding away to escape the frigid rain. Zelda returned as well, not looking back once as she made her way to the front gates of her home. 

She was lucky to have avoided the Guardians, or perhaps they were all busy off terrorizing her people, as she could spot from the flames in Castle Town. 

Either way, when Zelda made her way to the front gates, they were blown open, and the malice of Ganon’s true form was swaying around her. 

Zelda felt hypnotized, drawn to Ganon in the way she was drawn to her knight. The three shared an unbreakable bond, one forged in blood, pain, and death. 

Ganon circled around her, and Zelda felt her skin prickle with the gaze of a thousand eyes. The hairs on her neck and arms pricked, as Ganon tried to devour her. 

She refused to be swallowed up by another man. Seventeen years of bowing to her father's wishes, of having to learn to curb her tongue around dignitaries. 

Zelda planted her feet firmly on the decimated stone path of her home. With the whispers of her goddesses tickling her ears, she raised both her hands to the heavens. 

Zelda closed her eyes, and prayed for success.


End file.
